


Not a Hero

by Xavirne



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death, F/M, Junkrat x DVa, Mercy76, Sad, birthday fanfic giveaway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xavirne/pseuds/Xavirne
Summary: For my Birthday Fanfic Giveaway, a friend on Tumblr requested I write a sad one-shot. And well, this is what I came up with. Hope it makes you cry!





	

Blinking, she turned her attention his way. Fist still in the air, she sucked in another sharp breath.

Waiting. It was always the hardest part of these missions.

Although they had no idea who this masked stranger was, Mercy found herself trusting him more and more. He was strangely familiar and in a way that caused her to question everything. He stood for things she never liked-mysteries, hidden truths, faceless devotion, violence. And yet, despite the darkness that shrouded him, she could also see the light. Or rather, sense it.

The mystery that was Soldier 76 never did anything to compromise her or her safety. Although he told her nothing, his silence also told her everything-he was a fragile man whose mistakes muted him. His hidden face also told her something; he had scars he didn't want the world to see. And lastly, his definition of violence happened to align with the renewed Overwatch. Justice for the damned, the corrupt, the wicked.

Interest piqued, she let her mind continue to mull over the man before her. There was something about him, just... something. Something she couldn't quite wrap her head around. He was... _familiar_.

Her brows furrowed. Eyes snapping to his hand, he gestured. He was ushering them forward.

Knuckles white, she sucked in another breath as her hands wrapped around her staff.

It was go time.

In the blink of an eye, the door was down. In another second, 76 was shuffling toward an inner wall. He ducked. She flew in, Valkyrie suit completely visible to their attackers. Gliding with the grace of an angel, she slowed her decent and landed ever so softly beside him.

"I've got you," she quipped.

His nod confirmed all she needed to know.

Her once yellow staff started to glow a cool shade of blue. It was time they stop waiting. It was time they go on the offensive. Push the point. Eliminate the threat. And make just one more step closer to the truth. To Talon.

Poking his head up, he tipped the edge of his weapon over the make-shift wall he found refuge behind. The volley of bullets sent his way seemed to miss him, though Mercy's trained orbs caught a few hits. But 76 was tough. He knew that if he wanted to get the upper hand, he'd have to eat a few metal rounds. And he did just that before the tip of his gun lit up like fireworks on the Forth of July.

In mere seconds, his trigger-happy finger was able to mow down the first wave of enemies.

Blood spattered against the wall, he took two seconds to switch out his ammo. Two seconds to recover. Two seconds to advance to the next door.

"Forward," he instructed.

Mercy wasted not a second. With a firm head nod, she tailed him.

He was fast, but she could be faster. Half-running, half-gliding, she was always right behind him. The perfect shadow. Or rather, the perfect _guardian angel._

"You're healed up," she reminded him just in case he missed the warm, healing glow of her staff. "I'll-"

"Keep up the heals," his visor snapped back to look at her. "Assume they know we're coming. As soon as we get in, I'll be focus their attention. You get to safety."

"Of course," she knew not to argue. If she did, he would only berate her on her insubordination. He would also threaten to take someone else, Ana, if she dared utter a word against his. Granted, that didn't mean she liked it. Still, she couldn't afford to be separated from him. Each mission spent beside 76 brought her one step closer to the truth-to discovering just who he was. The man beneath the red tactical visor.

His heavy boots collided with the weak wooden door. The frame fell apart and he went charging in, gun ablaze.

With the frenzy that ensued, Mercy made a mad rush to an overturned table. It was shit for cover, but it would have to work. The enemy knew they were coming, for there was absolutely nothing sans that table between them and those well-trained weapons.

Taking a bullet to the shoulder, a small yelp squeaked past her taut lips. Ducking, she forced her attention off the wound. 76. She had to stay on 76. He was a dead man without her steady connection.

Blonde brows falling flat against her blue orbs, she concentrated. Connecting to someone wasn't hard. Knowing when to get them back up, give them their second wind, now that was the hard part. In the blink of an eye, she could forever lose a comrade. A single distraction could mean life or death. And not just for her partner, but also for her. One fumble and two lives were at her expense.

Bullet after bullet chipped away at the soldier's life. He was fading, faltering. His leg was crippled. His chest completely torn open. And yet, he kept reloading and emptying his clip on these sons of bitches. He knew she had his back.

Helix rockets impacting the area before them, he dropped. Smoke clouded the area, making visibility piss-poor for both sides. But not for the doctor, not for Mercy. Her suit was equipped with a friendly signature reader. She could see him, or rather his blood-flow. Er, lack there of.

With him flat-lining, she rose from the floor.

Body encased in a golden glow, she began the resurrection. His second wind. "Heroes never die~!" Hand pulling up from the ground, she brought 76 back on his toes.

She caught his chuckle before he charged head-first into the debris.

The droning echoes of bullets being exchanged caused her expression to dull. She hated this. Hated the violence. The death.

Jumping over her cover, she flew back to 76's side. She had her blaster ready, just in case.

Tip of her boot bumping into an upturned palm, Mercy forced her hardened gaze up. Now was not the time to mourn. These men knew the consequences. They chose Talon. They chose death. She supposed...

Sloppily, they dodged the corpses that littered the area. With each disheveled step forward, they drew ever closer to the comms room. To the room that would giveaway Talon's hideouts. All of them. This would put them one step closer to ending them. To bringing down the most corrupt group whose reach went global from the States to Europe to remote Asian islands. With this intel, they could finally start to take back their planet. Finally start working forward a golden era of peace.

"GRENADE!"

His voice trembled her very core. Eyes wide, the last thing she felt was his body tackling her back into the previous room.

Falling limp against the lifeless bodies, her thundering headache consumed her. A trickle of blood blurred her vision.

Was that... her... blood?

Crack in the visor, she caught the sharp red edges embedded in his forehead. It looked bad. Nasty.

"Let me," she began but he cut her off.

"The data," he barked before tugging his heavy form off her.

Debris falling every which way, 76 stumbled and fumbled forward. He was in pain, antagonizing, excruciating pain. And yet, he kept pressing forward. He knew the importance of his mission. Each second he wasted failing to walk meant another second of data forever burning to ash.

Clearing away his blood from her face, Mercy toyed with the though of analyzing his blood right then and there. She could finally put an end to all her guessing. She could finally know exactly who was behind that mask.

But now was not the time nor the place. Not to mention, it wasn't her right. It wasn't her secret to unearth and discover. When he felt it right, he'd come to her. Tell her. Let her in on his darkest, hidden secrets.

Gloved hand wrapping around the long shaft of her staff, she winced as she pulled herself up. He easily knocked the wind out of her. But he also saved her life. She could endure the tenderness that set in around her ribs and torso.

Hobbling toward him, she immediately realized the gravity of the situation.

"Can we salvage anything," Mercy took two steps before plopping in the charred remains of what was once a chair.

His silence shook her. The way he paced. The way he overturned things. The way his shoulders crept forward.

This was... this mission was a complete failure.

_Shit._

She should have known. Hell, he should have known. Known that opening the door would release some sort of detonator. That it would destroy all evidence. Everything.

" _Dammit_ ," she huffed before lacing her hands together. But maybe... just maybe...

She shoved the thumb drive into the half-melted port. Maybe Athena could do something. Find something. Anything...?!

The screen before her flickered.

There was a splash of color.

A faint red circle on a...

A...

A grid! A map! It was a coordinate!

Eyes wide, Mercy leaned into the terminal. Maybe this wasn't a c-

A tightness twisted her chest. Lightheaded. Winded.

Her hand lightly brushed against her tender chest.

_Blood...?_

The blonde doctor dared to look down.

A clean through and through.

Silent. Completely taken by surprised. No warning. No...

_Thud._

76 whirled around. In a second, he made an assumption.

Head snapping up, he threatened the rafters above. "Tactical visor activated." A head's up display immediately illuminated the only heat signature up there. With a quick pull of the trigger, he sent the assailant fleeing.

Cost clear, 76 rushed forward.

Frantically, he pawed at her neck. "Where's the damn tranq-"

A chill sent in a shiver down his spine. In seconds, his temperature dropped. He paled. His palms grew sweaty. His hands began to tremble.

There was... there was no tranquilizing dart.

"A-an-angela," his voice cracked as he violently shook her. "Wake up." He continued to shake her. "Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!"

Her head rolled limply to the side. The trickle of blood that ran from her mouth cast a few loose drops against his jacket.

"Angel," fear was setting in. "Angel," his voice was becoming weak. Vulnerable.

Perhaps he still had a chance.

Biotic field placed beside her, her reached for her staff. Maybe he could bring her back.

" _Uh_ ," he held it against her beat-less chest. "Heroes never die!"

Nothing. There was no enveloping glow. There was no second wind. There was no...

" _J-Jack_ ," her hand reached out for him.

Ripping the mask from his face, Soldier 76 revealed his face to her. " _Angel_ ," he cooed, thankful that she was somehow talking. Maybe the field was working. "I'm here," his voice still trembling, laced with fear and worry. "I'm here, love."

His hands ran into her hair. They held her head up. They brought her close, into his chest. Into his loving embrace.

Oh how he wanted to kiss her. Tell her how much he still loved her. How he missed her. But now was not the time for that.

Retrieving the staff again, his pleading dull blue-gray eyes locked with hers. "Tell me how," he begged. He could see her fading. He could feel her soul slipping away. If he could just use her suit and staff, maybe...

Her broken smile shattered him.

"Tell me," he begged again.

Her tears cut him. Broke him.

"TELL ME," he half-screamed, half-pleaded. She couldn't, she couldn't do this time to him. They were finally together. She finally knew. And now... now...

"Heroes never die!" he cried again.

It brought a faint smile to her paling features.

Her hand reached out. He seized it, pressed it against his lips, against his scarred face.

" _J-Jack_ ," her voice was barely there, "I'm..." She couched.

Blood. It was her new shade of red against her pale lips.

"I'm..." the pained look on her face chipped at his sanity. "I'm not a..."

Her eyes started to fade. What were once Caribbean blue orbs were now a faint shade of icy blue.

"Not a... _h-hero_."

Eyes frozen, lips pursed, body limp, truth discovered, she passed. Passed away in his arms. In the arms of the only man she truly loved. In the arms of the man she thought she buried so many years ago.

"A-Ang?"

He couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't stop the cascading tears. He couldn't stop the guilt, the fear, the loneliness that swallowed him whole. She was his everything and she left him.

"ANGEL!" he belted out into the lifeless room.

"What the hell 'appened," the Brit's voice caused him to flinch.

A few moments later, the others entered.

It took DVa all but a second to put two and two together.

"YOU!" She ripped her weapon from her hip. "WHAT DID YOU DO!"

The fury of tears exploded from her eyes. The sting a sharp reminder of the truth she already knew. "WHAT DID YOU DO!" she screamed again.

Before DVa could pull the trigger and attempt to take 76's life, Junkrat stepped forward. Bullet burrowing into the cement below, his endearing gaze tried to settle her. "Hana," he cooed, "don't."

Hitting him, the petite woman buried her face into his shirtless chest. Attempting to comfort her, Junkrat's arms engulfed her. He refused to let go, he refused to let her feel alone.

To Hana Song, Angela Ziegler was her everything. She loved the woman like an older sister, a sister turned mother. The two always goofed around. Always joked. Always had each other's back. Their bond went deep. Ang promised Hana she'd always be there for the brunette. Promised she'd always be the one to wipe away her tears, mend her boo-boos, and read her stories at night. Cosplay with her. Attend her gaming competitions. Help her plan her wedding. Everything.

But... but that was a lie. Angela was gone. Dead.

Collapsing, DVa continued to weep into her boyfriend's chest. Junkrat took a moment to look up at the crew. See if maybe they could offer some input. Advice. Maybe ease Hana's upset, heartbreak, despair. But in that fleeting moment, when his grip loosened, she bolted. She rolled away and put herself right at 76's side.

" _YOU_ ," her voice was laced with hate. It was cold. It was vengeful. "YOU KILLED HER!"

" _Hana_ ," Junkrat edged forward, but Tracer stopped him. She noticed it. And soon he noticed it. 76 wasn't wearing his mask. And those weren't impression marks caused by the mask on his face-those were tears that glistened on his pale, scarred cheeks. He wasn't mourning the loss of the doctor or his failure. No, his weeping went deeper.

The cold tip of her gun burrowed into his hairline. It found its mark against his skull.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you!" she demanded. Her eyes red with rage and remorse. "Give me one reason!" she yelled again.

When he said nothing, she pulled back the safety. If he couldn't talk her down, he didn't deserve to live. He failed. Failed not only Angela but DVa. Hell, all of Overwatch.

"Three..." she began to count down. "Two..." Her finger slipped over the cool trigger. "On-"

She froze. Her auburn orbs dilated. Her heart stopped. A wave of cold chilled her.

His sad, ghost-torn blue eyes destroyed her. They were worth a thousand words. They spoke the truth.

He loved her. He loved her too.

Falling to her knees, Hana's head fell into 76's arms. Grief ripped into her. Silently, she broke into a heavy sobs.

" _I know_ ," his voice quivered. "I love her too."

His vision blurred as tears continue to form within his tormented blue eyes. Pressing the side of his face against hers, he revealed his true identity to the rest of the team that hadn't already learned the truth. Their gasping before falling into tears served as yet another reminder as to how how much he fucked up.

They knew. They all knew.

She buried him a few years back. And now... now it was his turn.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, to be fair they wanted sad and near-death. Not death-death. But, ya know, I had to go to the extreme :P


End file.
